


Getting from Here to There is Easier Said than Done

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [13]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, a wee bit expository really, gotta get on to the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spiders, prison, barrels and the World of Men. Erebor is so close they can taste it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting from Here to There is Easier Said than Done

Mirkwood was definitely living up to its name. They'd been traversing the forest for a few days now, and Bilbo was beginning to feel...off. Things were not okay, with him, with Thorin, or with any of the Dwarves. Both Beorn and Gandalf had warned them about the hallucinogenic powers of the forest, but that isn't exactly something you can plan for. 

Bilbo felt like he was walking around in a fog. A very confused, upside down world kind of fog. It was bad enough in his head, but when all of them were under the same strain, it was starting to break them down on a basic level. They were arguing over nothing. They could not recognize obvious things that were right in front of them. They could barely even see straight, and it seemed that everything was out to get them. Paranoia was rampant. So was irritability. 

Mirkwood was not a nice place. 

Getting over the enchanted river with only Bombur falling prey was nothing less than a miracle in Bilbo’s mind. Of course, it had to be him who fell, as he was the heaviest and most ungainly Dwarf possible. And they had to carry him. At least Bilbo didn't have to...he couldn't have reached the litter if he tried, never mind have the strength to carry it.

The days went on like that, one after another, passing in a fog of unseen whispers and watching eyes. Every night the eyes watched them, huddled on the path with their fire the only light to keep the darkness, and predators, at bay. They were well over a week in, and Bilbo was shocked they hadn't lost the path yet. But there was another problem. They were running out of food. Despite all the rationing they were going through it at an alarming rate. Even more alarming, when Bilbo considered that Bombur was asleep and therefore, not eating. 

They were low on water as well. They had not come across another stream since the enchanted river, and they were not so lost in the head as to take any water from that. Things were getting desperate. 

Then, and Bilbo wasn't even sure how it happened, they left the path. The Dwarves scattered and he was left there, calling them to come back, but his voice was unheeded and he was left with two equally bad choices. Leave the path and catch up with his friends. Or stay and lose them forever. 

Bilbo left the path. 

Keeping them together was harder now, and Bilbo wasn't up for the task. He was barely keeping himself together as it was. Thorin was keeping his head, but only barely. They had spent their nights huddled together for warmth and comfort, but there was nothing of a sexual nature going on...truthfully, Bilbo felt like he was struggling to keep his head above water. All he could do was concentrate on continuing, on putting one foot ahead of the next, until he felt he was walking backwards. Or was he? He couldn't tell anymore. 

Finally, he was sent up the tree to scout out the area, and it proved to be the best thing that could have happened to him. As soon as he burst through into fresh air and daylight, he felt the life surge back into him, his head ringing with a clarity that he had forgotten was possible. He was stunned, staring at the tops of the trees and beyond. It was all right there. They were on the doorstep. 

And yet, they weren't. The forest under him went silent. There was not a peep from his Dwarves. Which was odd. They weren't exactly a quiet bunch at the best of times, and for the last few days they had been bellowing at each other constantly, and arguing with themselves as well. They had screamed their frustration and laughed incessantly at nothing in particular. They were a mess. 

And now, they were silent. This was not good.

 

* * *

 

It turned out, freeing the Company from the spiders was the easy part. Finding a way out of Thranduil's Halls...not so much. They had been there for over a week, the Dwarves locked away and Bilbo in the grey, shadowed land on the Ring. Bilbo was grateful for the Ring as it allowed him free access to the entirety of the woodland fortress, and yet, wearing it too long made him feel pressed and sick. 

He tucked himself away in dark shadowed corners during the quietest times of the night. He tried hopelessly to sleep, in the end he could only doze fitfully, terrified that he would be discovered while not wearing the Ring. He was exhausted and hungry, having been able to steal only a fraction of the food he would have liked, ever fearful of discovery. 

In addition, he missed his friends. They were all right there, he had walked amongst their cells many times, making sure they were all right. But he could not speak to them, for fear of discovery, and because he had no idea how on earth he would explain why his presence continued to go unnoticed. He did not want to tell them about the Ring, though for the life of him, he couldn't say why not. 

He spent more time than was probably healthy standing or sitting outside the door to Thorin's cell. He wanted to tell him, desperately, that Bilbo was here, that he was working out a way to save them all. He wasn't sure what stopped him, not really. Was it the fact of the Ring, or was it that he could not bear to see how Thorin's face would light up to see him, only to fall into disappointment upon realisation that Bilbo had not found a way out. 

He would wait until he had a plan. Then he would tell Thorin. 

And yet, Bilbo could not find a way out. Every entrance and gate was locked tight, and while the Dwarves in their cells did not require a constant guard, which is something that Bilbo could work with, there were regular patrols. He would have to find a way to pilfer the keys. 

Which was easier said than done. Even if he could manage it, he had no idea how to get them out of the fortress. The only piece of good luck he'd had was to find the room where the Elves had put all of their weapons and outer clothing. But there were two problems with that, the first being that Bilbo could not get the things to them without making many trips, and anyway, the Elves were sure to notice that their prisoners were suddenly well dressed and armed. 

The second, the room was in the cellars, close to the very lowest point of the woodland fortress. In the exact opposite direction of where they would need to go in order to escape. 

Or so he had thought. When the solution finally came to him, he knew that it could not have come a day earlier. He had no way of knowing that the cellars led to the river, and if he had, he could not possibly have asked the Dwarves to toss themselves in. And then, there was the other factor, the one that scared him the most. 

Bilbo could not swim. He was a Hobbit, after all, and Hobbits were no fans of water any deeper than that which filled their bathtubs. Or lapped around their calves, in a river or pond. He was, quite frankly, terrified of the river. And yet, it was the only way. And, if they were to be successful, they would have to go almost immediately. The keeper of the keys and his partner were working themselves into their cups at a steady state. He had only to be patient, wait for them to pass out, and he would strike. He would wait until the keepers fell asleep, steal the keys, then wait for the patrol to check the prisoners, let them out and lead them down. A quick stop to grab their things and just like that, they'd be out. 

If only it had been that simple. 

By the time they had washed up out of the river, sopping wet and battered, Bilbo was rethinking the whole idea. Of course, by then it was too late and they were out of the Woodland Realm, so really, the plan had worked. Except, they had no food and no way across the lake. And Kili was hurt. Bad. He tried to deny it, pushing away Fili and Oin whenever they tried to get a look at him, and that in itself said a lot. 

Meeting Bard was their salvation...but like every strike of good luck they had found on this journey, it came with a dark lining. 

 

* * *

 

Thorin could not have loved Bilbo more if he'd tried. The Hobbit was extraordinary. How he'd managed to stay hidden during their time in prison was anyone's guess. Thorin for one, had no idea how he could have accomplished it. And yet, he did. 

Thorin's faith in him had been justified a million times over. True, it had hardly been a dignified escape, but then again, what escape is, in the end? They had all made it out alive, and Thorin was thrilled. One arrow wound, after all that? Also, they had their clothes and weapons back, which was a huge boon. 

If only Orcrist had been amongst their things. Thorin would miss his Elven blade, loathe as he was to admit it, but considering how the princeling had oogled it, it was no surprise that he had kept it for himself. Or worse, given it to his father. Thorin was definitely not pleased, but at least he still had Deathless. The sword had served him well for many years, and it would continue to do so. Orcrist was a small price to pay for their freedom. 

That was the good part of their escape...after that, things went from bad to worse. They had to give the majority of their coin to the bargeman so he would smuggle them into Laketown. They were forced to enter his house through the toilet, of all disgusting things, and to make matters worse, Bard had heard Thorin's name and realised who they were and why they were there. He was out of the house, apparently discovering that Thorin was indeed the heir to the throne of Erebor, when they slipped out under cover of darkness. They were heading to the docks to find a boat that could fit them all, or two, if need be, when Kili tripped and fell, crashing into a bench, over flower pots and planters. The ensuing ruckus alerted the guard, and now, here they were, pleading their case to the Master of Laketown, a greasy, pinched looking fellow with much self importance and little intelligence. The idea that such a man could have a drastic effect on the fate of his Dwarves and the Quest rankled at Thorin. 

The Master appeared to be on the cusp of giving them the help they needed and letting them go when Bard arrived, spitting his ire and fear to the crowd in a desperate attempt to turn the tide against them. 

They were at a standstill. 

That is when the Master's equally greasy assistant asked if there was any amongst them who would be willing to vouch for the Dwarves, for Thorin. When he considered that the only person in Laketown who knew them at all was campaigning against them, Thorin began to lose hope of them escaping the town at all. 

Until Bilbo stepped forward, his face set, his eyes steely. Thorin sucked in a breath, eyes wide. Bilbo was magnificent in that moment, as he was in so many others, and Thorin's heart beat faster, thanking Mahal again for sending Bilbo to him. 

“Me,” he said, lifting his chin. “I’ll vouch for him. Now, I have travelled far with these Dwarves through great danger, and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it.”

Thorin could not help but let his feelings for Bilbo swell up inside him, almost taking his breath away. He smiled at Bilbo, tipping his head in acknowledgement, knowing from the cheers of the crowd that Bilbo's words had turned the tide. 

Bard continued to push, but when it was pointed out that his ancestor failed to kill Smaug, Thorin knew that they were safe. The Master would give them food and supplies, and let them go. 

He was right. The Master agreed to grant them all the supplies they needed, and boats to get them across the lake. In addition, he offered them accommodation, going so far as to throw a feast in their honour. While it wasn't much of a feast, the food was hot and it meant warm, comfortable beds and a chance to catch their breath before moving on. 

Thorin agreed to stay for two nights, still leaving them plenty of time to find the door, while giving them the time they needed to recharge. And the time, he hoped, to let Kili's leg heal. 

Thorin was worried about him. Since he'd been shot, his nephew had been growing steadily weaker and greyer, and there seemed to be nothing that Oin could do to help. The truth was beginning to set in...Kili in this state was a liability, not only to their speed, but to their ability to fight the dragon, if need be. And Thorin was certain Smaug was there, sleeping and biding his time, waiting for someone to disturb him, in an attempt to steal his stolen treasure, so that he could destroy them. 

He shivered at the memory of dragon fire, how hot it was, how it spread without the need of an accelerant, how it sounded when it roared past him. It was not a thing to be trifled with. How could he possibly think of putting Kili in a position where his injury could cause his death? It was unthinkable. And yet, to leave him behind was equally so. Thorin was at a loss, being pulled by both his head and his heart. He would have to make a decision, and soon. 

Perhaps Kili would heal with the rest and food. Thorin held on to the thought, and hoped that the next two days would bring a change. 

He was running out of time.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm thrilled to have gotten this next part out, despite all the craziness around here. I have been writing more than I thought I would, but on paper, which is more work perhaps, but it's easier to keep from the eyes of inquisitive children. Also, sometimes you just have to pick up a pen, yk? I'll get it all transcribed soon enough, though it won't help me write the next chapter, lol. It's all future chapters I've got inspiration for. Good for later, not so much for now. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading the series...I'm happy to share. Oh, and next chapter will definitely have smut...just an fyi. ;) Hang in there!


End file.
